


Wherever This Goes

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: Patrick has feelings for Joe that can only be resolved in those few moments they have alone.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Joe Trohman
Comments: 7
Kudos: 8





	Wherever This Goes

**Author's Note:**

> This is extremely cringy and I didn't like it when I was writing it, but I didn't post yesterday so deal with it.

Feelings are so hard. Sometimes you have them when you shouldn't, sometimes you don't have them when you should, sometimes they're not mutual, and sometimes they're mutual when they're not supposed to be. Like the thing that happens between me and my bandmate, Joe Trohman. I've only been in the same band as him for a few months, but I think I've had a thing for him ever since I ran into him at Borders. Being on tour is like a hell on Earth for this reason. His stuff and my stuff are on the same row, so I have to sleep next to him and wake up next to him every night and morning without a good reason to explain my embarrassing erection. "Joe," I whisper to him one night in the van, "I'm pretty sure that I'm in love with you. I know that it's really uncomfortable to say something like that right now since we're both probably high, but I just thought I'd tell you before you fell in love with someone else." 

I wait for a reaction. A shock, or for him to say he loves me back. But I don't get anything. He just looks at me with his wide blue eyes and nods. What's that supposed to mean? I try again, "You mean the world to me, Joe." 

He gazes at me again but looks concerned this time. "I'm terribly sorry, Patrick. Why'd it ever come to that? I can probably find some Tylenol in my bag for you." He unzips his bag and fishes around before taking out a bottle of acetaminophen and unscrewing the cap. He hands me two. I shake my head and give them back to him. 

"Joe, this is serious," I say, "I really want you to know how I feel." 

Joe sighs, "And I feel like you're missing the point. No one has ever fallen in love with me, and I like it that way." He tucks a curl behind his ear and continues to move around his pillow and blanket. Pete and Andy are outside, talking to another group, but they'll be back soon. Joe has such an awkward quietness to him right now. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he chuckles, "I said I like it how it is." He's lying. I can tell he's lying. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Do you?" I ask. 

Joe huffs, "Yes, I do. I like it this way and there's nothing I want to change. Just move around your stuff so we can both sleep tonight. I'm just really tired and want to get some sleep. If it makes you feel better, I think you're cute." he gives me another look before taking his arm away from my hand. I frown and leave him alone. I turn to my side of the backseat and begin shuffling around the blankets and pillows, not exactly sure how to do it right. It was fine the way it was, but I don't want to be awkward. After a little bit, Joe starts humming one of the songs we had played tonight--a cover of Mr. Brightside. He's humming it slower and softer, almost as if it was a sad song. I look over to him to see he had stopped moving completely. His fingers just dangled over the corner of his pillow as he stared at it. 

I can't ignore him anymore (as if I could in the first place). I put his arm in my hand again and snap my fingers to get his attention. He snaps out of whatever weird trance he's in and looks to me. "What, Patrick?" he asks, "Did I do something?" 

I shake my head and pull him closer. His chest is pressed against mine. "There's no way you like it how it is," I say, "You're too quiet now. You keep to yourself and refuse to socialize with anyone. Isn't there something strange about that, Joe?" I reach up to invest my fingers in his curly hair. He reaches out to take my hat off. I almost object, but then decide otherwise. I can't ruin this moment. Joe brushes his thumb across my lips with hesitation. 

"I don't know," he murmurs, "Seems kind of wrong." 

My smile fades. "Why?" My face is still in his hands and his eyes are still locked with mine, but somehow it's wrong. I've seen the way we glance at each other on and off stage, but apparently it's not right. There can't be anything right in the world, can there? "Is it because I'm male?" 

Joe shakes his head. "It's because you'd have to be insane in order to see something inside of me that you're attracted to. What is it?" 

I stand on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Well, for starters, you have smooth skin." I trace his face with my fingers. His nose, his cheekbones, his lips. I love all of it. He's so pretty. His hair doesn't make the situation any better, neither does the fact that we're just a couple of teenage gay boys in the back of a beaten-up van that probably can't be a van for much longer. "I love you," I whisper for the third time that night. It makes him smile a little this time, maybe because I didn't back out when we got extremely close. 

"You're not teasing," he chuckles, "You actually mean the shit coming out of your beautiful little mouth." 

I smile and nuzzle against his neck. "Look who's suddenly a romantic," I joke. He puts his arm behind my back and holds me close. I can really get used to this. Actually, I'm already used to it. I've been waiting for months. He and I shift on our feet every so often, since he's a bit taller than me and this crouched stance isn't doing us any good. "Can we sit down?" I ask after a bit. Joe nods and positions us on the seat. He grabs his blanket and wraps himself in it, taking me and forcing me under. 

"I'm still a little hesitant," he admits after taking my face in his hands and staring into my eyes. "I've never dated a guy before. I've never dated, period. I've also never kissed, so please don't judge me if things get a little weird. I don't know how to do the lip thing." 

I nod my head, then pause. "What lip thing?" 

He shrugs. "I'm just told that there are certain things that people do with their lip." 

I bite down on my own lip. "Like what?" I push my head up against his cheek. "Show me!" I giggle softly against his slight stubble. He's so much better up close. So much hotter or cuter or whatever word you want to use to describe someone who makes you feel both strong and weak at the same time. 

Joe kisses my forehead. "You sneaky bastard. C'mere." He pulls me close--almost into his lap--and connects our lips. He's awkward at first (so am I) but then we both relax a bit and really get to enjoy ourselves. He moves his mouth to catch my bottom lip whenever it starts to fall away, which I think is the lip thing. What else would he be trying to do? His hands don't know what to do because he knows I'm self-conscious, but my arms are around his neck and my fingers are nestled deep in his hair, almost forcing his face against his mine. His impatient tongue darts out to enter my mouth. An embarrassing gasp escapes my throat when I realize how good it feels to have his tongue inside my mouth, dragging along my teeth and brushing against my own tongue. This was no mistake.

I open my eyes and see that his eyes are closed, which I like. I close my eyes again and begin moving my neck down to lick at his jaw and neck. He releases a strained moan and kisses the back of my head as I play around with his sensitive spots. His throat, the joint section of his neck and shoulders, and his collarbone. After a bit, I pull off of his neck and look back at him. His eyes are glowing and he looks flushed, out of breath. I can't blame him; I'm panting, too. "What do you think about this?" I ask, "Can you see this becoming a regular thing?" I gesture between him and me. 

He nods and tries to answer me through his panting. We didn't even make out that long, but apparently the shock took all the breath from him. "Y-Yeah," he chuckles softly. Then he seems to realize something and places me on my side of the seat. "But not too frequent," he says hurriedly and quietly, "Andy and Pete are making their way back to the van. Act naturally." 

I nod my head and throw a scarf at him. "Cover your neck!" I panic. I may or may not have given him a hickey or two right on the front of his neck.

He stares at the scarf. "Why?!" 

I shush him quickly. "Just do it, Joe. Do it. It's for your own good." I give him a pained expression. Andy and Pete are getting closer and closer to the van. Joe nods knowingly and throws the scarf onto his neck. He looks weird, but at least it's actually cold in here and won't raise any questions. I grab a random book from the floor and open it to a random page. I don't read anything, but I move my eyes and stare at it. Joe stares out the window. 

The van door slides open and Pete slides in. Andy gets into the driver's seat. "Hey, guys!" Pete enthuses, "Did you two have an argument or something? You're really avoiding eye contact." 

Joe and I exchange a look. I take over the conversation. "Yeah..." I reply timidly, "It was an argument. He thought I was taking up too much space with my... blanket?" I look to the curly-haired boy for assurance. Joe nods. 

"He was spreading out his blanket and I didn't want that kind of negativity in my life," he jokes. Everyone laughs awkwardly until Pete changes the topic. 

"I like your scarf, Joe. Isn't it Patrick's, though?" He looks between me and Joe, and for a second I think my life is about to end. What do we tell him? I'm not going to be the one to talk; I talked last time. I shoot Joe a look that conveys that exact message. Joe takes a second to process, but eventually, he gets it. 

"Oh! Uh... my neck got cold and I can't wrap my blanket around my neck. Patrick also thought it would make my neck look better for some reason." He winks at me. 

Pete takes a moment to process, then rolls his eyes. "Just because the wink wasn't directed at me doesn't mean I don't see it, you know?" 

**Author's Note:**

> my back hurts so much. I can't even focus on anything without my back just stinging and bothering me.


End file.
